


Three Ladies Dine

by ChillyHollow



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Pining, References to Depression, Restaurants, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillyHollow/pseuds/ChillyHollow
Summary: Impressions of three different women at the same restaurantFor merrywoodpecker, who just got quarantined  - hugs!
Relationships: Charlotte Campbell Ross/Cormoran Strike, Ciara Porter/Cormoran Strike, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 30
Kudos: 54





	1. The Grey Lady

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merry woodpecker](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=merry+woodpecker).



Robin turned this way and that in front of the full length mirror.She looked good in the little black dress with the flared hem.It made her reddish-blonde hair looked redder and it made her eyes more blue than grey.Her husband came into the bedroom and looked at her critically.“I thought you were going to wear the grey dress,” he said.

“I think it makes me look washed out,” she told him. 

“No, it’s very flattering to your eyes,” he told her with finality.

“Fine.I’ll wear the grey,” she said.She didn’t have the energy for another argument.Their life seemed to have a lot more friction and fights than she had ever imagined possible when they started dating, became engaged and then finally married.Perhaps it was London?She thought about that as she changed out of the black dress into the dove grey one.She hadn’t really liked London when she first moved here to live with Matt.Now almost two years later she still wasn’t fond of the place.There were some pretty gardens and fabulous museums that she enjoyed visiting on her lunch hours, there were the shops, and there were always the restaurants and work events that Matthew loved, but somehow she’d not warmed to the place.Matt liked it much better than she did.

Perhaps it was her job.She worked at a large media firm as PA for one of the junior partners.She wrote reports, updated spreadsheets, handled travel and expenses, did all those things competently but without pleasure.It was dull to the extreme.Her boss was ok—at least he wasn’t all hands like some of the people at the temp jobs she’d worked before getting a permanent position—but he wasn’t particularly friendly, either.She always had the feeling he wasn’t quite sure what her name was.She was simply someone who made his coffee and his business life easier.She hadn’t made friends at work.In fact, she didn’t have any friends of her own here in London, just acquaintances of Matt’s.No wonder she was lonely here.

With thedress in place, her hair combed and her makeup checked, Robin was ready to leave.They’d arrive too early but Matt was nervous about this business dinner and eager to get going.He and Tom had a new accounting client, an important one who might lead to even more important clients.If things went well, that is.Robin’s job was to see that they did.She was to be charming, decorative, and to see that all the food arrangements ran smoothly.That was her job and to Matt it was far more important than she thought it warranted.After all, the new client’s business was small and in her opinion not likely to grow. 

Robin grabbed her cashmere wrap and clutch purse and they were on their way.They picked up Tom and his fiancee Sarah in Robin’s old Land Rover.If this client worked out, Matt wanted an Audi.Sarah was really excited.She loved these events as much as Matthew did.Tom was nervous.Robin knew that because he talked too much when his nerves got the better of him.Tom was Matt’s best friend, the one who had gotten Matthew this job, the one who had been assigned this client along with Matt.Robin saw a lot of him and Sarah.Too much, actually, as a little of Sarah Shadlock went a long way.She was loud, aggressive, and had too much bosom which she shared with anyone within range.Her dress tonight was electric blue and very low cut.It made Robin’s, which she thought rather revealing when she’d tried it on in the shop, look matronly. 

The restaurant was called Betsu and it offered Southeast Asian cuisine.There were lots of pork, fruit and rice dishes on the menu, all exotic.Robin thought longingly of fish and chips, but Matt was always on her about her weight, so a restaurant where she wasn’t tempted to overeat was a good thing. 

The space was not too big and the banquettes and chairs looked comfortable.They were seated in one of the alcoves, with room for eight.The Client was bringing his girlfriend so Robin had booked the largest table they had, just in case other people joined them.That was the thing about this client—he was very well connected in the World of the Rich and Famous.Matt had talked about this obsessively ever since he and Tom had landed the account.He hoped that this was the first of many clients with money and connections. 

Matt’s firm was picking up the tab, so Matt had insisted on the best of everything.Robin knew well that although Matthew loved splurging where it showed, he was cheap in little ways that no one would know about.She was allowed to have pretty clothes and nice jewelry but he objected to her buying books and didn’t want her to replace her aging laptop with something new and faster.“It still works.Why spend money on something unless you have to?”He of course had the latest, sleekest laptop.Robin didn’t even protest any more.She was just so tired all the time. 

The Client arrived a few minutes late with a very pretty model in tow.Robin was favorably impressed with him.He was young, short and a little bashful.He had nice manners, too, apologizing for being late due to the heavy Friday night traffic.The model girlfriend was soon engaged in fashion talk with Sarah who had admired her party dress, and Matt and Tom were listening to a story the Client was telling about his DJ business.That left Robin free to look around as she sipped her white wine.The restaurant was becoming crowded with an Instagram-worthy crowd.The women were all lovely, the men all holding fine whiskies and cigars.Everyone smelled of money, in fact.Robin looked in vain for someone interesting and authentic. 

She had given up on finding someone to hold her interest when there was a stir at the door and a woman like no other appeared.She was wearing a scarlet designer dress, but that wasn’t what made everyone look.Robin had just been rereading her Sherlock Holmes.This woman was Irene Adler in the flesh—“The Woman.” She was beyond beautiful, beyond graceful, she was unreal in her perfection.She was being escorted by a silver fox sporting a dinner jacket and cold blue eyes.They commanded one of the best tables, of course, and the waiter was very attentive. 

The client seemed to notice the direction of Robin’s gaze.He said to her, “That’s Charlotte Campbell Ross.My brother used to date her.”

“She’s very beautiful,” Robin said, just to have something to contribute.“Who is her escort?He’s quite striking in his own way.”Robin did not mention the man made her flesh crawl.

“Her husband, Jago Ross.They were all at Oxford together with my brother I think.He’ll be the Viscount of Croy one day.Jago, I mean, not my brother.”

Robin smiled at him, then his attention was drawn by Sarah who put her hand on his arm and asked him about his tailor.Their waiter brought their starters just then and Robin forgot about the beautiful woman and her viscount-to-be. 

Dinner was dull as dishwater.The Client’s girlfriend talked about the boredom of being a model and posing for hours on end.Robin thought it sounded a lot like her own life, except her life was not as glamorous or as well-paid.The Client talked about a trip to LA with his very rich and very famous father and that he and the girlfriend were going to Switzerland for the skiing over Christmas.Matthew asked about his favorite places in Switzerland, storing it all up for anecdotes to drop like pearls in front of his colleagues and friends.Robin knew his tricks well by now.Sarah and Tom just talked and drank.

Tom drank a little too much.Sarah didn’t seem to notice; Robin decided perhaps she didn't care.Matt was also drinking more than usual and Sarah was matching him glass for glass.Robin was still on her first white wine.She hadn’t eaten very much of the marinated pork dish she had ordered.It tasted like everything else these days, which is to say, like cardboard.So maybe the wine was what was making her dizzy, drunk on a nearly empty stomach.She excused herself to visit the loo.

The bathrooms were luxurious.Robin used a cold wet towel on the back of her neck to settle herself.The cold seemed to make the dizzy feeling go away.She combed her hair, redid her makeup, and checked her phone for messages.There were none.She put the phone away and, deciding she couldn’t put it off any longer, headed back toward her table.

By the time she arrived, there was a stranger sitting next to the Client.Matt looked annoyed.The stranger rose at Robin’s approach and courteously pulled out her chair for her.He was tall and broad, with five o’clock shadow and tousled dark hair.The Client looked happy.“This is my brother Cormoran,” he said.Robin wondered why Matt wasn’t thrilled.Introductions to famous people was the point of this client dinner, after all.But maybe this was the black sheep of the family, Robin thought.She realized the newcomer’s clothes were not tailored.They were clean and neat but a bit rumpled. He’d not changed or shaved for dinner, that was certain.His watch was a simple cheap brand.Robin's brother Stephen had one just like it.This man didn’t have a fashionable haircut.It was just untamed.She had the odd thought that it might be nice to run her fingers through those curls. 

Then Robin noticed that Sarah was eyeing the client’s brother like a shark moving in for a seal kill, so she hastily told him it was nice to meet him, hoping to deflect Sarah and remind Matt of his manners.The Client’s brother favored her with a smile that crinkled the lines around his eyes in a charming manner, and then told them he had to get to his own table.“Ciara will be here in a minute for dinner,” he told the Client.He stood and excused himself.Robin watched him walk away, noticing a slight limp and an erect military posture.She wasn’t the only one.Charlotte Ross was looking at him as if he was the only water in the desert and she was parched. 

Robin pondered this.Perhaps Charlotte was regretting her marriage to the silver fox?Robin herself would rather be married to the Client’s brother than Charlotte’s husband, that was for sure. Her attention was diverted by the waiter who asked if they wanted dessert.Everyone asked for coffee and brandy and Sarah ordered a decadent chocolate cheesecake to share for dessert.Robin didn’t intend to drink any brandy but she knew better than to decline.She would leave it untasted on the table.She might have a bite of cheesecake, though, despite Matt.She liked cheesecake.


	2. The Lady in Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second lady is profiled. Her outfit is inspired by Scarlett O'Hara's red dress she wears to the ladies social as adultery is on her mind.
> 
> Still for merrywoodpecker, who just got quarantined - hugs!

Charlotte’s husband Jago wanted to go out to dinner.She was agreeable.It was nice to see and be seen by their set.They were going to Betsu, and then to a party in Mayfair.She might see someone interesting at the restaurant although she knew she’d not see anyone interesting at the Johnsons’ party.They were dull, although very rich.However, their liquor would be first rate, which she appreciated.She was drinking more than ever.Of course Jago drank and she liked to keep him company.The more he drank, the less he wanted sex which suited her.She felt a little queasy tonight.She wondered if she might be pregnant.Wouldn’t that be a kick?Jago would be over the moon, though.She might mention she was wondering and see if he’d spring for a trip to Paris, just to celebrate what she certainly hoped wasn’t true.She didn’t want children, had never wanted them.If she was pregnant she’d have an abortion. That she’d have to hide well, however.Jago wanted sons as all he had were two daughters from his first wife, one of her many failings. 

She studied the room, tapping her nails impatiently on the tablecloth.She thought one of the younger men at an alcove table might be one of the Rokeby children.There were seven or eight children in total, although she was interested only in one, the eldest son she called Bluey.He’d been hers since she’d seduced him at Oxford to get back at Jago, for doing something that she didn’t even remember now. The fact that he was so sexy had come as a very nice surprise.She’d spent a great deal of time in his bed and enjoyed every minute, even if he didn’t have the money she wanted or paid her the attention she deserved.She sighed, and took another drink from the whisky Jago favored and had ordered.Jago scowled and she looked to the right to see what had caught his attention.

It was a huge shock to see Bluey walking into the restaurant.This wasn’t his kind of place.What was he doing here?She watched him as he was taken to a prime table.He’d always driven her crazy with his ability to command attention when he wanted but not use it to his advantage.Jago was looking at her so she said, “Cormoran’s getting fat, isn’t he?”Jago smiled a malicious smile.She pretended indifference and the waiter appeared.They ordered dinner and asked for another round.The waiter was happy to oblige. 

She watched Bluey out of the corner of her eye.He nodded at the waiter who brought him a drink and a second place setting.He was expecting someone, a woman most likely.Well, of course.He’d always drawn women like flies.She’d liked having the man that everyone wanted.She gave Jago a sultry smile with half her attention while watching to see who joined Bluey.He got up and went over to the alcove table where she thought one of his brothers was seated, speaking to the men and a woman there. Life would have been so much different if Bluey’d only had some of his father’s money.The waiter brought their entrees, and when the ritual of the dishes was over, she noticed Bluey was holding the chair for another young woman who had joined the table where his brother was.She was an insipid milkmaid type, not worth notice, but of course he was always courteous to everyone.She hadn’t appreciated that enough when they were together.

Jago nodded at a passing acquaintance and for a while her attention was on the newcomer but when she was able to look again, Bluey was escorting a tall young woman in mint green with incredible long legs to his table.The woman, whose back was to them, was nearly as tall as Bluey in her very high heels.She frowned.Was that the model Ciara Porter?Bluey was flying high these days it seemed.Well, of course she had spoiled him for ordinary girls.Not that he’d ever settle down.She’d done well to get him to propose to her and that wouldn’t have happened if he’d had two good legs. 

Bluey was looking in her direction.He nodded to her and to Jago and sat down, turning his attention to Porter as if the Rosses were mere acquaintances.Her temper rose.Jago said something to her and she responded mechanically.Their waiter reappeared and she asked for water which he brought immediately.She felt queasy again but the water helped.She would show Bluey that she didn’t need him.She gave Jago a flirtatious smile and sipped her whisky and ate her steak, at least as much as she could stomach. 

Porter and Bluey were nibbling seafood starters.Of course those model girls never ate much.They couldn’t afford to.She’d read somewhere that Porter was going to Oxford.Bluey liked smart girls.Her body was how she’d caught him but being clever was how she’d kept him interested.She didn’t have to try that hard with Jago, who liked drink and impressing his peers more than he liked sex.God, she missed sex with Bluey.That man knew how to please a woman.Well, maybe she’d pick up someone at the Johnsons’ party.Their big house had plenty of dark corners suitable for a quickie.

She might need to do some reconnaissance, anyway.Jago was becoming a bore. She would keep her eyes open for a Russian oligarch.Or a rich American.Of course she’d do well to wait until she was the Viscountess of Croy.Foreigners loved titles and a certain sort of competitive man would love taking the Viscount of Croy’s wife away from him. She smiled to herself. 

God, it was hot in here.Jago was suggesting coffee and she agreed, mostly just to have something to do with her hands.She felt restless.Abruptly she told Jago she didn’t want coffee.“Let's just get out of here.”He was agreeable, and throwing some bills on the table, he steered her to the cloakroom and helped her into her mink jacket.She wanted a full length chinchilla coat for Christmas.She wondered idly how many blow jobs that would take.She had already picked out another gloomy oil painting of horses for Jago and a handmade shotgun with the Croy crest carved into the stock to gift her husband for the holiday.It would impress visitors.And that was what Jago was all about.She understood him completely.Bluey she didn’t understand at all.Why didn’t he love her?Every other man wanted her but not him, even though she loved him and always would.


	3. The Lady Wears Mint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another lady in the restaurant  
> For merrywoodpecker, who just got quarantined - hugs!

Ciara Porter was late, but then she was nearly always late.The photo shoot had run over but they usually did, making her a little later than she’d planned for her date with Cormoran.They were going to have nibbles at Betsu before Ciara had to head home and pack for her trip to Milan.This was goodbye for now, maybe goodbye for good.Ciara wasn’t looking for anything permanent and neither was Cormoran.They just enjoyed each other’s company and the sex was out of this world. He talked to her and listened to her, which was great.Not many people did.Women were jealous of her looks and men intimidated by them.Cormoran appreciated her beauty but he appreciated other bits of her, too.And not just “those” bits—get your mind out of the gutter, she told herself.

Her dad talked to her and her agent who was gay and immune to Ciara’s supermodel persona talked to her seriously as they plotted her next career move.But until she’d run into Cormoran that was it for real talk.He’d supported her going to uni and helped her decide her courses and tutors because he’d been there, at least until he’d dropped out for an Army life.He understood changing career plans because he’d done it, hadn’t he?She liked that in him.Plus he didn’t mind that she was nearly as tall as he was.She never liked men who wanted her to only wear flats.Who were they kidding?You are short, get over yourself.

She smiled.There he was.Cormoran kissed her cheek and told her she looked good in mint.Well, of course she did.It made her eyes greener.Usually they were pale like sea glass.That’s why she had chosen this dress.He looked rumpled as usual.He didn’t care what he wore as long as it was clean and he had pointed out that his job meant that dressing well was not an option.He couldn’t afford to be more noticeable than he already was.That had made their dates a little tricky.Cormoran wouldn’t go to parties or clubs with her.He didn’t want to be photographed. 

He also didn’t like the club scene.He’d told her once that he’d had enough of that when he was a kid.She couldn’t imagine how exciting it must have been to have parents who were a rock star and a famous groupie but he never talked about his parents and she didn’t ask.She knew some topics were off limits.She never told him about her early days modeling before she hit the big time, either. 

He’d gotten her a Boozy Ozi, her favorite.He was thoughtful, Cormoran was.He noticed and remembered things.She told him she wanted oysters on the half shell, a particular favorite.So that’s what he ordered for them in a sort of seafood platter that had a mix of things.She thought the sea urchins looked gross but he told her the little eggs were delicious, a bit like caviar.She stored that fact away for later. 

He asked about her trip to Milan and she told him all the things she hoped to see.He recommended she visit the Bagatti Valsecchi Museum’s house tour.She wanted to see the famous Proust’s Chair marble sculpture and hoped to do some behind-the-scenes tours of the archives of the design houses she was going to model for.She loved clothes and fabrics.She wanted to practice her Italian, but she’d not have a lot of free time for most of the month she would be visiting Italy.She would spend a few days at Ravello on the Amalfi Coast before coming back to England, though.That would be relaxing.

“Wish you were going,” she pouted a little, knowing full well that he wouldn’t.She understood that he worked hard for a living and couldn’t take time away from the job.She was the same way.After all, she’d not be spending her own money for this Italian trip.It was for work and all being paid for by the design houses she would be posing for.Even the mini break at the Belmond Hotel Caruso was being paid for by her employers.If she’d had to pay herself, she would have skipped this part of the trip.She wanted to keep putting away money away for later.Modeling wasn’t going to last forever.

“Me, too,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing her fingers.She smiled at him and he smiled back at her, in perfect understanding.They were friends.She certainly wished him well but they were on different paths in life.She asked for another drink so he flagged down their waiter.As she waited she looked around the restaurant.She spotted Al and waved at him and he waved back.She liked Cormoran’s brothers.  
  
There was a gorgeous woman in red at another table, glaring at Cormoran.She was sitting with a man with white hair and very blue eyes.She wondered who they were but it was none of her business.She imagined the lady in red was a former lover of Cormoran’s.One didn’t get to be as good in bed as he was without lots of practice and some people couldn’t let go when their time was over. 

Cormoran had told her she felt that way because she’d never been in love.Well, she didn’t have time for love right now.The modeling game was going very well and she had a very nice nest egg tucked away.Going to Oxford was going to be an adventure and who knew what was next?She didn’t need a boyfriend or husband like a millstone around her neck.She smiled happily at Cormoran again.Those oysters were good.He smiled back.She was going to have fun in Italy.Maybe she’d see Cormoran when she returned to London.Maybe not.Life was like that.It was unpredictable.And that’s how she liked it, at least for now.


	4. Two Endings and a Beginning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three from another point of view
> 
> For merrywoodpecker, who just got quarantined - hugs!

Strike was regretting this dinner with Ciara Porter even before he arrived.Ciara was famous and loved press attention.It helped fuel her supermodel career, after all.He liked her and enjoyed sex with her but his business wasn’t helped at all when his likeness was smeared all over the tabloids.But they’d have a little to eat and he’d tell her he couldn’t see her any more.

The restaurant was what he expected, flashy modern Asian cuisine.Ciara had chosen it.He would have taken her to a pub if he'd had his choice but Ciara Porter in a pub would probably set off riots.He was surprised, although he shouldn’t have been, to see his half brother Al at one of the tables when he arrived.He stopped to say hello and was introduced to Al's new team of accountants and his current model girlfriend who was beautiful but otherwise nothing special in Strike’s eyes.One accountant was quite handsome, the other quite ordinary, both were drinking a little too much for Strike’s taste.Not that he hadn’t overindulged, but never at business meetings.They were there with their wives or girlfriends, both in low-cut outfits.The brassy blonde in electric blue was forgettable but the grey lady was something else.She was pale and ethereal and quiet but her grey-blue eyes spoke volumes to him.She was unhappy, that was clear.He smiled at her, willing her to know he was sorry about whatever was wrong, then he took himself off to his own table, committing the grey lady to his prodigious memory.

Ciara was late, of course.She’d texted him her photoshoot had run over.He wasn’t surprised, she wasn’t ever punctual, but it didn’t bother him.He had a whiskey and ignored Charlotte who was also in the restaurant, shooting glances at him.He had nodded to her and Charlotte’s husband but had not spoken to them.He savored his drink and let his eyes roam the fashionable crowd.He noticed the grey lady was doing the same.He wondered if she was bored, too. 

Then Ciara arrived, all long legs, white-blonde hair and eyes the color of green sea glass that her pastel green short beaded dress seemed to enhance.She gave him a kiss on the cheek and an apology and stunned the waiter with one glance.Strike ordered her a Boozy Uzi, her favorite, and got them both a seafood platter.He knew from experience that Ciara would pick at whatever he ordered.Skinny was gold in her business, and he respected her choice of career.After all, it was making her a lot of money and she liked it.He’d prefer a never-ending root canal to being a model himself but it wasn’t his business. 

She took his ending their brief affair with a smile.“I know you can’t be out in public with me, Strike, not with your job.I hope you’ll be open to an occasional shag, though.You are quite a lot of fun.”He smiled at her, happy that she thought so.He liked leaving his lady friends satisfied.She picked at the variety of starters he’d ordered for them, drank a second Boozy Uzi, and smiled happily back at him.“I’m going to Milan tomorrow but I’ll text you when I get back, ok?”He nodded.He wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t hear from her for several months but this was a casual affair at best.It wouldn’t break his heart if she found someone in Italy.He was certain it wouldn’t break hers if he found someone. 

They ate and bantered and he enjoyed himself, but all too soon Ciara was leaving so she could get up early and pack for her Milan trip.He escorted her to the sidewalk where a car was waiting for her.He put her in the car, then watched it head off toward her flat.He decided to smoke, then find a place for something to eat.A few oysters on the half shell, three shrimps, and a sea urchin with fresh bread wasn’t much of a meal. 

He stepped back in the shadows when Al’s party appeared on the sidewalk.He had no desire to be drawn into a group with those people.Al’s car appeared like magic.He got in the driver’s seat with his model girlfriend beside him.The brassy blonde and the handsome man climbed into the back with the ordinary man.The Grey Lady didn’t get in the car. Al’s car pulled away, leaving the grey lady standing alone and rummaging in her purse for keys.Oh, so she was driving?Why hadn’t her escort stayed with her?

He watched her and noticed she was weaving a little.He frowned.He had noticed earlier she wasn’t drinking much, unlike the rest of her party.Something wasn’t right.She stopped next to a battered Land Rover, unlocked the door, and dropped her keys.She leaned against the vehicle, looking at the keys but not bending to get them.He walked up, careful to stay within the line of her vision so he wouldn’t startle her, bent down and picked up the keys.She looked up at him, those beautiful eyes slightly unfocused.He said, “You dropped your keys.Are you all right?”

“Dizzy,” she said. 

“Have you eaten?” he asked her.

She shook her head no, which was a mistake.She swayed a bit before she steadied herself by leaning on his shoulder.He put his arm around her waist and made up his mind.“Let’s lock up your car and head to the pub across the street.They’ve got great fish and chips.You need to eat something.”He locked the Land Rover again with her keys, then dropped them into her bag.Strike wondered if he was about to make a mistake, but they both needed to eat and his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave someone in distress if he could help.

He put his arm around her waist and steered her toward the pub.She came, unresisting, like a ghost who had temporarily assumed human form, fitting perfectly next to him. 

“My name is Cormoran Strike…."


End file.
